Wound Cleaning

Who: Adam and Rebekah
Where: Farm
When: Afternoon

Adam walked back to the farm, not hurrying, not dawdling either, his hand clamped to his shoulder to stem the bleeding as best he could. He didn't question what he had done to deserve the attack - he was to pay for the sins of his family, their mass suicide had condemned him to a life of more pain than any one man could ever live through, he knew this. It was his lot in life to simply bear it well, to not pass the sin on to his children, when he had any.

He entered the farmhouse quietly, calmly, and headed over to the sink. Running water enough to fill the bowl, he stripped to the waist, the better to clean the wound with and, that done, took a cloth and started to wipe the blood away.

PM to Adam

I wish to move today. Can you assist me?

Work To Be Done

Who: Adam and Rebekah
When: midmorning
Where: the farm

She'd started walking some time shortly after the sun had come up, bundled into her big coat and an old pair of rubber boots she'd found in the closet. They were too big for her and clomped over the pavement, but she hardly noticed. It wasn't even necessarily that cold, but the more Rebekah could cover up, the better she felt. She'd done a circuit of the town, eyes crawling over everything. It seemed that once she'd ventured out into the seemingly sprawling space they'd been given, her house felt too claustrophobic. She eventually followed Park Road North until the landscape began to change. Just two houses on either side and then ... open land. Farther down there looked to be a barn, and Rebekah headed in that direction. She'd seen something about a farm, but didn't realize there'd be animals too.

Adam was still trying to put together a notice to post up on his journal, asking for people to help out with the harvest. He'd been staring at it for days, not happy with it. He'd deleted what he'd written several times to start again. He just wasn't good with words, not written words anyhow. He had to get something up soon though. But not right now, he decided, standing and walking away from the computer, headed outside. Fresh air would clear his mind. Work would focus it. He headed out across the farmyard, empty bag on his shoulder as he headed for the fields. He'd hand pick some of the corn - he might not get very far, but it would be something to do and keeping busy was important.

What did they do to you there?

Who: Jeremy and Rebekah
When: early afternoon
Where: streets

The first few steps out of the house had been the most difficult for Rebekah. She'd nearly cried when she found that she was out of wood glue. She didn't want to be, she didn't want to go outside in this strange place and subject herself to everyone else who was supposedly here. Having Ben for a neighbor was enough, that was all she wanted to know. But she had to keep herself occupied, and sculpting was the only way she knew how to do that. So she'd put on shoes and a long pea-coat that she buttoned up all the way, and pulled a knit cap down over her scraggly hair.

It would only be a short trip. There was a hardware store, surely they'd have glue. Hands dug down deep in her pockets, Rebekah started in that direction, eyes down on the sidewalk in front of her, lips moving in silent and unheard prayers that even she could hardly follow.

Ships in bottles

Who: Ben and Rebekah
When: early morning
Where: behind their houses

It was cold in the house. That was something she probably ought to appreciate, considering what her future had in store. Rebekah was walking through the rooms for the ten thousandth time, barefoot with a linen skirt brushing around her calves. Her eyes wandered, memorizing again every inch of the place that was now "home". It was strange to think, but the room she'd had in the mansion had been more home-like. Perhaps it was just a matter of time. She could decorate this place maybe, rearrange ... though what would be the point, ultimately? They'd given her all of her art supplies, neatly stacked in the extra bedroom, but she had yet to touch them, aside from assigning them places. Being secluded in that room ... it had ruined her, gotten her out of her own rhythm, broken her down.

Her steps eventually took her outside, through the back door and into the small yard that was behind the house. She stepped down off of the concrete steps and onto the dying grass, feeling it crunch just a little under her feet. There wouldn't be time to try and grow anything before winter truly came. It was on it's way. Rebekah walked out a few paces into the yard and stopped, arms hugging her thin frame. She looked out over the fences, down the row of houses, wondering who else occupied them.


Who: Rebekah
When: mid morning
Where: her house

It was too much space. Either that, or it was too quiet. Rebekah hadn't exactly figured out what the problem was yet. Having the space of an entire house -- small as it was -- to herself was ... disconcerting. Though she should've been used to quiet, she'd spent a good chunk of time before all the confusion and questions in absolute silence. When they'd starved her. Though she supposed that was the difference. This place wasn't silent. Not completely. There were noises, and more of them once the sun went down. In the walls, in parts of the house she wasn't in. Scratching and the sounds of furniture moving that hadn't moved in years; she'd been ripped up from sleep the night before by a scream that echoed in the bathroom.

Her demons were making themselves at home.